


Soul like me

by Seed_of_Madness



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, POV Alternating, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 18:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30059859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seed_of_Madness/pseuds/Seed_of_Madness
Summary: Things are never quiet nor easy if you're the Chosen One, or his roommate, but how far can they go?What if there is more than the Insidious Humdrum lurking in the shadows?Simon and Baz are about to embark in a new, and rather terrifying, adventure that will change everything.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Soul like me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! This is my first fan fiction in this fandom (and it's been ages since I wrote a fan fiction in general), so I apologise if I'm a bit rusty... I'll get better, I promise!  
> (Also, I suck at summaries, so if you're here regardless thanks a billion!)
> 
> Before you start reading though, there are a few things you should be aware of.  
> First of all, this story will tackle some heavy topics (more specific info will be given at the start of each relevant chapter).  
> For example: in this chapter rape is mentioned. You have been warned.
> 
> Secondly, this story is my own take on the Carry On series, so there will be quite a lot of changes. Here are the main you need to know before the story even starts:  
> At the start of the story Baz is not yet in love with Simon.  
> Baz doesn't hate himself for being a vampire.  
> At the start of the story Simon doesn't yet know that Baz is a vampire.  
> Simon and Baz are not enemies.
> 
> And that's it, I think...  
> I'll let you read the actual story now...

  


**Chapter 1  
Breaking point**

**  
SIMON**

“Go to Hell, Snow!” Baz shouts at me. His tone of voice is filled with such rage that it makes me recoil, like I’ve been punched in the face.

“Wait! I didn’t… Baz, what?” I growl after him, but it’s too late: he already stormed out of our shared room in Mummers House slamming the door so hard the whole room seems to shake.

I’m left alone, staring at the shut door, asking myself what I did wrong.

  


**BAZ**

I charge down the stairs so fast, the steps appear in a blur under my naked feet. It’s only when I reach the bottom of the stairs and blast through the entrance door that I realize that I have nowhere to go: it’s the middle of the night, most of Watford is probably fast asleep by now -as they should- and I’m in my pyjamas.

I close my eyes taking a few deep breaths, trying to get a hold of myself and stop my thoughts from spinning a thousand miles per hour. I mentally count to ten, before turning around and walking back inside Mummers House, slowly climbing back up the stairs.

I stop in front of Dev and Niall’s room and reluctantly knock on the wooden door. It takes them a few minutes but, when the door finally opens, the sleepy face of Niall pokes out.

“Baz? What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” he asks me, he’s rubbing sleep off of his eyes; his tone of voice is filled with worry and confusion.

“Not really. I’m sorry to bother you guys, but I need a place to sleep. Just give me an extra blanket or something and I’ll settle on the floor,” I reply.

Niall seems even more confused at my words, but he moves aside to let me inside the room. Dev is pocking his head out from under his blankets.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles.

“Did something happen with Snow?” Niall adds.

“No, nothing happened. Nothing’s wrong. Please can we just go to sleep? It’s late,” I try my best to keep my tone of voice calm and collected: the last thing I want to do is to make my friends worry.

Dev and Niall share a long, meaningful look, but they don’t press me any further. Each of them gives me a blanket and a pillow and I settle myself on the floor at the foot of Dev’s bed.

“Thanks guys,” I quickly nod to them before laying down; I use one blanket as a makeshift mattress and the other to cover myself.

“Good night,” Niall murmurs sliding into his bed.

“Sleep tight,” Dev adds.

“’Night guys,” I whisper; I hide my face between the two pillows and pretend to fall asleep but in reality I’m too enraged to rest.

How can Snow even think something like that? What in Crowley’s name is wrong with him?

It all started three days ago: Snow hadn’t been seen around for almost two weeks, which per se wasn’t particularly worrying since he often left school to follow The Mage in one of his missions (I honestly wander how Snow is able to pass all his exams since he misses quite a lot of lessons and, well, academic work is not really is forte, but I assume The Mage has something to do with that…). However, when he came back, it was the middle of the night and he was soaking wet.

It wasn’t him who woke me up, though, it was the smell, never in my life I’ve smelled something so strong and disgusting: it reeked of decomposing corpses and burned mould. I shot up from my bed and looked around, holding one hand to my face trying to prevent the smell to enter my lungs. The memory of it is impressed in my mind so vividly that a wave of nausea spreads all over me even though days have passed.

Snow was standing in the centre of the room, drenched from head to toe, water running down his body in rivulets and creating a small pool at his feet; even his eyes were watery, his blank expression focused on nothing. He looked dead. He smelled like death.

“What in Crowley’s name happened to you?” I asked him, but my words met no reply; I don’t think he even heard me, I doubt he could.

He started walking towards his bed, his movements were slow and uncoordinated.

“What the fuck? You can’t go to sleep like that! You stink! Go take a shower first,” I yelled at him.

That got his attention. He darted to one side, his eyes focusing on me with a terrified expression, but he wasn’t showing any sign of understanding.

“Snow?” I called to him, but again no reaction. He was in a total catatonic state.

I climbed out of my bed and walked to him, Crowley the smell was unbearable, I placed both my hands on his shoulders and shook him lightly, he was freezing. He didn’t react to my touch. At this point I saw no other choice, so I gently dragged him to the bathroom and placed him in the shower. He just stood there, blankly staring forward.

“Take off your clothes. Can you do that?” I asked him, but I already knew he wouldn’t reply.

So, I bit down a few curses and started undressing him, piling his filthy clothes in a corner, then I turned on the shower and let the warm water run over his unresponsive body.

“Fuck Crowley, Snow! This is soap, do you know what to do with this?” I desperately asked him, placing a tube of shower gel in his cold hands.

With undying gratitude, I watched his hands move as he started messily washing himself. I sighed with relief before turning my attention back to his stinky clothes, I grabbed them and rushed towards the window. I don’t regret what I did for one second: those clothes were done for, no matter how many times Snow would’ve washed them, that smell was never going to leave. So, I tossed them into the moat. Let the merwolves do with those what they wanted.

When I went back to the bathroom, Snow was still washing himself, it appeared he was doing a decent job, so I left him to his own devices and grabbed instead a bottle of bleach to clean the floor from all the remains of Snow passage in both our room and bathroom. Once that was done I washed my hands and arms, all the way up to my elbows, three times hoping that would be enough to get rid of that putrid smell; then, I turned my attention back to Snow.

He was standing in the shower, now clean of whatever that thing covering him was, but still showing no sign of awareness. I shook my head in frustration, left the bathroom to get some towels and one of his Watford pyjamas, then I closed the water in the shower and helped him out of it.

“Dry yourself and put this on, ok?” I felt like I was talking to a toddler. Snow still remained silent, but he grabbed what was offered to him.

I left him in the bathroom and went to sit and wait for him on my bed, my face in my hands sighing deeply. What is wrong with him? What happened? Why did the Mage just drop him in his room if he was in such catatonic state?

I waited for a few minutes but, when Snow failed to emerge from the bathroom, I got worried and hurried to check on him. I found him standing in the middle of the bathroom, his hair was still wet, but everything else seemed dry, and he managed to put his pyjamas on, even if the top was the wrong way around.

“Close enough,” I commented. I gently grabbed him and dragged him all the way to his bed, pushing him under the cover.

“Go to sleep now,” I told him.

And that was that. That is what happened. But Snow had to ruin everything, hadn’t he?

When I woke up, the next day, Snow wasn’t in the room, I found him later on in the dining hall. He seemed well enough, even though I didn’t go and check personally: I thought that whatever had happened to him, he now had Bounce to help him out; so, I decided not to tell anyone about any of it.

I tried my best to forget about it. I pushed those thoughts into the deepest corners of my mind, telling myself it never happened, hiding behind a wall of denial. Until tonight, when Snow decided to bring it up again.

We were both in our room, getting ready for bed after a long night of study, when Snow decided that he wanted to thank me for helping him out the other night.

“I mean… Things could’ve gone way differently, so thanks,” he told me.

“What in Crowley’s name is that supposed to mean?” I asked him, confused.

“I was naked, innit? You could’ve… You know…” he shrugged.

I felt a surge of rage burn through me and it took all my self-control not to spring at him and punch his stupid face.

“Are you fucking calling me a rapist?!” I screamed at him.

Where is that even coming from? How can he think something like that? I feel my body shake with anger at the thought of such insinuations, and I turn around in my uncomfortable makeshift bed. I’m not evil!

I get that Snow and I are not friends, I never even tried to befriend him, why would I? He is the living representation that my family lost everything; he is, or at least act as, the Mage’s guard dog. However, we’re not enemies either, not as much as my father would want anyway, because I try my best to be no one’s enemy. I think that my choice was greatly influenced by the fact that my heart stopped beating sometime during my fifth year. I’m a vampire, which automatically makes me a villain. I won’t let my actions mean the same thing. I’m not a dark creature. I’m not a monster!

I bite down my rage and bury my face deeper into the pillows. Snow and I rarely talk even though we are quite often together both in our room or in shared classes; mainly we avoid each other, we are extremely good at that. I never imagined that he was thinking of me in such a way. What the fuck is wrong with him? How can he think that in a situation like the one I found myself in, my first thought would be to…? I can’t even think about it without a surge on nausea enveloping me: my mind completely rejects such notion.

The truth is that that night, three days ago, I was utterly and completely terrified. Because I know Snow: he is a gigantic pain in the ass, he is obnoxious, egocentric and, frankly, rather ignorant, but he is also extremely brave. The burning courage in Snow’s heart is second to no one: I’ve seen him rushing towards dangerous situations since he was eleven. He never backs down, he never gives up.

So, what happened to him? What was horrific enough to break the Chosen One?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and are somewhat interested in this story.
> 
> I hope to see you on the next one!


End file.
